5 AM in you.

A lot of the time we are handed is taken for granted, and wasted in an almost stagnant state, in a most disturbing sort of internal quiet. waiting.

And Almost spider-like, starving while we think of all of the things that could and probably should do before the day is burnt away, before the sunset and fumbling towards the kind of restless sleep reserved for the truly weary soul.

We are given a pencil and a thousand blank pages and we are told to create some sort of life, on our own. We are presented with too many complicated possibilities and proceed to spend nearly nine tenths at the very least of our relatively short lives finding a direction - north south right and wrong, finding a way to drown the second thoughts and third thoughts that inevitably fill every head.

It is easier, when a head is very heavy, to borrow shoulders, a lap, a chest. It is comforting to slip into someone else, for a while. It is even more wonderful when someone happens to be able to leave you convinced that you will not always live in a semi-conscious kind of world. The kind where days slip by before you notice you've missed the better part of the evening.

Sometimes, it is nice to note the coming and going of a day. It is nice to be reminded, however inadvertently, that it is okay to dream and it is okay to think that I will make something of myself, despite all of this.